


True Love

by Kmrjo



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Dodgy plumbing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Rom Com tropes without the Rom, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 03:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14346885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmrjo/pseuds/Kmrjo
Summary: S05 E06: Icarus:  Trewlove helps Morse through a long night.  He’ll return the favor.





	True Love

**Author's Note:**

> “Rare as is true love, true friendship is rarer.” - Jean de La Fontaine

**_Chapter 1_ **

“Don’t be ridiculous Morse.”

Shirley Trewlove was a practical woman and just because there was only one bed didn’t mean Morse should have to sleep on the floor. This was her second undercover assignment with Morse, playing wife to his boy’s school teacher while trying to solve a mysterious death. Well, second if you counted the Bingo hall and, looking back, she still wasn’t sure why he’d asked her. At first, she’d thought he was asking for a date, which was a bit exciting, but it had ended up her being cover for his private inquiry. Not what she’d expected but rather fun in the end. She’d been a little infatuated with Morse in the beginning but decided their friendship was worth more to her. It wasn’t like she was an old maid or anything and lately she’d been having fun with George Fancy, the thought of his puppy dog enthusiasm making her smile. Still, he was a bit too eager, moving too fast, not thinking things through which worried her. She wasn’t at all ready to settle down and end her career to keep house and have babies, maybe she never would be. Some women were naturals with domesticity, with the mothering touch, she just wasn’t sure she was one of them. No, she needed to have another chat with George once this assignment was done.

“No, I’ll find a spot to sleep. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Morse almost seemed shy, squinting up at her from the floor before turning back to place an LP on the record player. She watched him as he sorted through the selection of albums in the cottage’s lounge. He read all the back-cover notes, analyzing the information on each one, before carefully categorizing them into the wire rack beneath the player. The man was always thinking, observing, cataloging. It was something of a wonder to watch him work and she could appreciate his dedication, being it suited her own style quite well. Working this case with Morse required a lot from her, balancing playing a part while digging for clues and asking delicate questions. It was a tricky business but if she was being honest, and she always was, this was the kind of challenge she relished. And at least she knew how to turn it off when she needed to. Morse seemed always to be worrying at something, never able to just…relax.

“Fine, but it’s a big enough bed if you change your mind.”

She wasn’t worried he’d think it a proposition. Another policeman might see it as a chance to make a move, even if they _were_ on the job, but Shirley never felt anything other than Morse’s inherent respect for her as a colleague. And she’d had her eyes opened walking back from the Bingo hall that night anyway. Morse seemed oblivious to her as a woman, his brilliant mind having no room to appreciate what was clearly standing in front of him. For some reason it had ticked her right off and she’d wasted no time telling him so. A blind spot a mile wide, she thought, but tonight he was _too_ aware and taking this whole chivalry thing to a ridiculous end.

~*~

Morse settled into the high sided bathtub only to have his blanket mattress slip sideways crunching his neck into an acute angle. He pushed himself up again trying to sort out where his arms should go and wishing he could straighten his legs in the rather small basin. He’d just found a semi-comfortable position when a horrible groaning sound made him jump and twist around to stare in alarm at the ancient toilet fixture as the pipes continued to whinge and moan. He settled back with a huff and closed his eyes, never aware of the icy drip of water biding its time over his head.

~*~

Shirley settled into the soft bed after tossing an extra comforter over the top. She snuggled down with a tired yawn in the warm darkness of the little bedroom and closed her eyes. She was just drifting off when a shocked cry from the bathroom jolted her awake.

“Ah!”

A mixture of frantic muffled tumbling noises and the squelch of skin on porcelain quickly ended with a hollow metallic clang.

“Ow! Son of a …!”

The shower pipe rattled violently in its brackets against the shared wall.

“Morse? Are you alright?”

“Yes, fine,” Morse grumbled. “Bumped my head on the bloody faucet.”

Although concerned, Shirley couldn’t help nearly laughing out loud imagining Morse in a wild tangle of limbs and blankets in the slippery tub. “All right then,” she called mildly, her voice wreathed in mirth. “Good night.” She barely managed it before rolling over and giggling uncontrollably into her pillow.

“Uhm, good night.” Morse smiled despite himself hearing Trewlove’s muffled laughter. He paused to rub at the new divot in his head before sorting himself toward the non-faucet end of the tub. Listening to her, he thought, almost made up for this silly predicament. He sighed settling back into his cold cradle. Almost.

~*~

In the dark of the night Morse jackknifed upwards grabbing at the sharp escalating pain in the back of his thigh. Cramp! He couldn’t get a good angle to massage it out and couldn’t straighten his leg and then couldn’t seem to roll out of bed to get up. The tub, dammit. He wanted to scream as the waves of contractions pulled the muscle tighter and tighter. He held it in, he could handle it, it was fine, it was fine. OK, no, no. No! His pride be damned!

“Trewlove! Ah, ah! Tru…ow! Shirley!!”

Stumbling footfalls came from the room next door growing louder in the hall. The bathroom door was flung open as Trewlove halted in the doorway. Her golden hair glowed in wild tangled flight as the hall light revealed her lithe body through the rather sheer material of her short night gown. She wavered there hanging on the frame, her face concealed in shadow.

“What.” Her voice was still thick with sleep. “What!?” And impatience.

“Cramp! Ah! Help!”

“Where?” Trewlove approached looking him over.

“Back of thigh,” he panted.

She immediately grasped his thigh and began working her thumbs into the taught muscle at the back. Morse grit his teeth and groaned with each kneading motion.

Eventually the pain lessened but the muscle still felt ready to go off again any second.

Shirley reached down and grabbed Morse by a bare bicep and pulled. “Come on Morse. Get out of there.”

Morse latched onto the tub edge and with her help awkwardly clamored out of the slippery pit. Shirley held onto him and walked them out into the hallway to let his muscle stretch and recover. They walked back and forth for a few minutes in the narrow hall, Morse bright red with embarrassment in his vest and pajama bottoms while Shirley’s baby doll nighty wasn’t doing much to cover her. She yawned tiredly, unaware she’d wrapped herself around his arm, holding on as her head drifted onto his shoulder. She was fairly mesmerized watching her bare feet moving alongside Morse’s in black socks.

“I think it’s let up now.” Morse said eventually to the worn carpet trying to ignore Trewlove’s long legs and the feel of her firm breasts cradling his arm.

Shirley said nothing and just steered them into the cozy bedroom. Morse looked around in confusion.

“No, I’m….”

“Shut it Morse,” Shirley slurred tiredly. “Just lay down and go to sleep.” She sat him on her warmed side of the bed and pushed him over without much resistance. He stared at her as she walked around to pull down the other side of the bed and climbed in without ceremony.

“But….”

“Just…Morse…please. I gotta sleep,” she said gruffly as she rolled over. “G’ night.”

Morse stretched out under the warm blankets pulling them up around his neck. He lay stiffly aware of his subordinate only inches away, a memory of her glowing in the bathroom doorway like some avenging angel flashed through his mind. A light fragrance of lavender wafted over the bed and he breathed deeply, relaxing into the soft mattress despite his misgivings. It had been a long day and he yawned, finally warm and comfortable.

He rolled over and sighed. Trewlove was a good copper.

~*~

Shirley was hot. She tried to throw off a layer of blankets but drowsily realized there was a weight holding her down. She cracked her eyes open and in the half light from the hallway found Morse sprawled on top of her, his wavy curls just tickling her chin, his arm and leg flung across her midriff and thighs. She startled to wakefulness. Was he trying something on? Was there _any man_ she could trust? Shirley waited a moment, but Morse was laying still and breathing evenly. No, he’d apparently just flopped onto her in the night. She sighed. Morse was a bit of a handful tonight. And a furnace!

She didn’t want to wake him, that would be beyond awkward, but god she was hot. She was considering pinching him to get him to move when she felt his arm twitch and his head roll slightly. Was he going on his own? She held her breath only to squeak with alarm when Morse pulled her closer. His hand slid up under her nearly bare shoulder while his thigh roved up over her hips and his head rolled back until his lips brushed her throat. She stiffened but there didn’t seem to be any intent on his part. Not a kiss then but his lips did start moving.

Soft sounds like words brushed against her neck. She wasn’t sure they were words at all and froze trying to make out what he might be saying. In the dark his agitation was growing along with his voice until she heard him ask plainly what she could not answer.

“Mum, can you hear me?”

Shirley’s heart jumped as Morse grabbed onto her like a life preserver, still mumbling confused questions. My god, what was he dreaming?

“Mum, wake up, please? Mum? Mummy?”

Shirley remembered hearing his mother had died when he was young. God, how often did he relive such a horrible moment? A wave of compassion swept through her as she wrapped her arms around him, one hand brushing the damp curls from his forehead. He continued murmuring pathetically as she rubbed his back through his thin vest. Without thought Shirley pressed a kiss to his forehead as she rocked him gently in her arms and began to whisper.

“Endeavour. Endeavour, it’s alright. You’re not alone. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Morse grew quiet as she spoke the words every child needed to hear. No one should have to be so alone. She hugged him tighter and brushed her lips over his brow as she whispered reassurances over and over, giving him what comfort she could. Soon he began to settle, nuzzling his head under her chin again and pressing his ear to her chest. He sighed as his body relaxed and his breathing evened out.  

Shirley was glad he’d not woken up. She wasn’t sure how she’d explain. She felt drained all at once and let herself sink back into the bed. She was no longer concerned about being overly warm or the extra weight resting on her as she drifted into a dream with a soft kiss to her breast and a softer, “thank you.”

~*~

Morse opened his eyes and listened to Trewlove’s solid heartbeat until dawn.

 

**Chapter 2**

Morse followed the sound of Trewlove’s heels down the shadowed stairwell. She’d run from the squad room as soon as she’d read his face. George was dead.

On the first floor he stopped outside the WPC’s dressing room for a moment and rested his head on the door. He was still shaken himself, the sight of George’s lifeless body lingering in every other thought. He grimaced and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

Trewlove sat on one of the long benches between the rows of lockers. She was no longer sobbing but sat hunched over, arms around her stomach. Morse walked over and sat beside her. He didn’t say anything and neither did she.

It was just the two of them sitting quietly in the semi-darkness the only sound the steady patter of dripping water from the shower room.

“Morse?” Shirley whispered. “Why?” She choked on her question as her face crumpled in tears.

Morse wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close as she broke down again. There would never be an answer to her question, not in the way she meant it. The realm of fate was far beyond the law, but Morse knew he and the other Cowley officers would never stop searching for the earthly answer to why George was killed.

~*~

They sat wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time before Shirley said she wanted to go, not home, but back to the cottage at the school. Somewhere without memories of George, at least for tonight.

Once there she led him to the bedroom and gestured to the bed.

“Please stay?” She asked.

Morse nodded then headed to the bathroom to change. When he returned Shirley was sitting up under the covers waiting for him. He lay down next to her and she flipped the covers over him as she moved closer and lay her head on his shoulder. Morse reached up and caught the delicate hand resting on his chest.

Through the long night Morse was there, and Shirley just held on.

**Author's Note:**

> These two definitely had a bond. I’m gonna miss Shirley.


End file.
